


Nothing Like The Sun

by PepperF



Series: Tattoo AU [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tattoo AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6493936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever the discussion came up, Jeff had always claimed to believe in the idea that there was one perfect person out there for everyone. Because, statistically speaking, this meant that his perfect mate was probably in Russia or Brazil or some other part of the globe, leaving Jeff free to enjoy the company of all the other women who weren't going to tie him down or complicate his life. </p>
<p>When he said as much to Annie at Ted's annual birthday shindig, she just shook her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> For Corissa, because she felt cheated. Thanks as ever to Bethany for beta'ing and insisting on a proper ending! ;) 
> 
> Nb. this takes place before 'Intro to Parenting'.

Whenever the discussion came up (lawyers could get remarkably maudlin and introspective after a few martinis), Jeff had always claimed to believe in the idea that there was one perfect person out there for everyone. Because, he would continue—after a pause for everyone to wonder if Jeff Winger had a secret sentimental side—statistically speaking, this meant that his perfect mate was probably in Russia or Brazil or some other part of the globe, leaving Jeff free to enjoy the company of all the other women who weren't going to tie him down or complicate his life. 

When he said as much to Annie at Ted's annual birthday shindig, she just shook her head. "That's such a cop-out," she said.

Jeff shrugged and gave her his best hey-babe-I-told-you-I-was-a-jerk grin. "What, you believe in that crap? You know it was invented to sell chocolate, right?"

"No, I believe..." 

She hesitated, like she was actually considering it as a serious concept, giving Jeff time to give her a surreptitious once-over for the hundredth time that evening. The event was black tie, and Annie was jaw-droppingly gorgeous in her navy satin sheath dress and platform stilettos: classic and formal, feminine, wild and anarchic, sexy and fearsome—hitting every kink he had and a few he'd never realized existed. Jeff's colleagues were used to the tattoos by now, but this was messing with their tiny minds on a whole other level. He wasn't sure where or how she'd managed to get such a spectacular dress, but he wasn't going to ask, because he suspected the answer would trigger that 'buy her all the pretty things' urge again—and she hated that. 

"I believe that there are a few people in the world who'd be perfect for me,” she concluded.

"How many?" asked Jeff, immediately. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "No, really—are we talking five? Ten? Enough to hold an international convention? There could be a presentation on 'How great is Annie's ass?'" His grin broadened, turned salacious. "There could be a slideshow."

"Ugh," she said. "You're in one of those moods. I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"No, really—I'd love to meet these other guys. Or women. Are there women? Everyone's somewhere on the scale, right? You can tell me, I'm very open-minded."

"What do you mean, _other_ guys? Who even said you'd be invited?" said Annie, and with great dignity and a sweep of her hair, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Jeff's grin vanished as he watched her walk away (her ass really was great, though). _What? Why wouldn't he be invited? Was she saying that he wasn't perfect for her?_

His focus turned inward so fast that he almost went cross-eyed.

_Wait... was_ he _saying that he was?_

\---

It took him a while to realize, because he was avoiding her, but it dawned on him an hour later that Annie was being elusive. Whenever he spotted her, she seemed to be magically across the room from him, wherever he was, and deeply involved in conversations with his colleagues, the guests, and even the waitstaff. Jeff, perversely, began to take it personally—especially when he saw her talking to Mark not five minutes after he'd stepped away from the guy in order to go track her down at last.

He watched for a while, ignoring the nagging voice that said he was being irrational. When her back was turned, he stalked towards them. Mark saw him coming, and—either in solidarity, or because he enjoyed watching a drama play out—said something amusing to distract Annie. She laughed, leaning in closer, and Jeff clenched his teeth and tried not to look jealous.

"Tango," Mark called in greeting, when Jeff was still a few feet away.

Annie jumped, and looked around swiftly. "Jeff!"

"Cash. _Annie_."

"Forget something?" asked Mark, his voice cordial but his eyes sharp and amused.

"Now, you know I never forget," said Jeff, matching the cordial tone. "Anything. Ever." Then he gave Mark a hard stare, until the other man put up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Not getting in a dick-measuring competition with you, Jeff," he said. Then he made a fist and knocked Jeff's shoulder. "You know I'd win."

Jeff relaxed a little, and he forced a smile. "I know," he admitted. He and Mark had nothing to prove to one another. He turned to Annie—who was glaring at him. This wasn't going to be so easy. "Can we talk?" he asked, trying to sound polite and not pushy.

Annie narrowed her eyes, as if she knew he was reining in the urge to grab her arm and drag her out of the room. "Go ahead."

Mark chuckled, and Jeff shot him an annoyed—but much less confrontational—glare. Mark ignored it. "Have you given the lady the tour yet?"

Jeff's eyes widened. "No. Annie, do you want to see my office?"

Annie sighed, but nodded. "Fine," she muttered, ungraciously. She ignored the arm he held out. "Lead the way."

She relented a little as he took her on a meandering tour of Hamish, Hamish and Hamlin—more, he suspected, because her heels wobbled on the plush carpets than because she'd gotten over her annoyance. Jeff kept up an inconsequential patter about the building and some of the more scurrilous antics of its inhabitants. Even to his own ears, he sounded nervous—which was stupid, because he didn't even know _why_. Still, he led her by cautious stages to his own office, feeling as though she might bolt if he went too fast.

"And this is where the magic happens," he said inanely, waving broadly as they entered his suite of rooms—an outer office where his assistant Rosamund sat, and the inner room that was all his own. He stopped in the doorway of the latter.

Annie released his arm, walking slowly into the room. She glanced at the couch, and then back at him. "You're not getting lucky in here tonight, if that was your plan," she told him.

Jeff shook his head. "Never crossed my mind," he lied. And, quickly, before she thought to ask if he'd ever gotten lucky in there before: "Pretty sweet, huh? Not a corner office, but when Tom finally kicks it…"

She shook her head at him, and then wandered over to the window, looking out over exciting downtown Greendale. She seemed content with silence for the moment, so Jeff closed the door and leaned back against it, observing her.

It did… strange things to his insides, seeing her in his space like this. He was used to seeing her around his apartment—which had the advantage of potential nakedness and a nearby bed—but this place was different, somehow. It was where Jeff spent most of his waking hours, for one thing—and it was where he was Jeff the lawyer, the shark, the master manipulator. He tried to take a mental step back and imagine how he might see her if he didn't already know her, if she was a potential client, or a witness on the stand. Gorgeous, hot… young, too, and the tattoos suggested a vulnerability he might exploit…

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it. No. That felt wrong.

When he opened his eyes again, she was just sitting down in his chair. She leaned back, testing it, and then swung it around to face him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Are you pissed at me?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" She didn't ask confrontationally—apparently the walk had been enough for her to lose her steam, too. She asked as if she genuinely wanted to know.

Nevertheless, she was also giving him ample opportunity to screw up, and so he gave the question careful consideration before answering. "Be…cause I mocked your idea of a just and fair universe?" he hazarded.

Annie scoffed. "No. If I was bothered by being mocked, I wouldn't be with you at all."

Jeff grinned. This was true. "So why, then?" 

She hesitated, drumming her fingers on the desk in front of her. 

"Look.... I get that you're pissed at me. But I honestly don't know _why_ , Annie, and unless you tell me, I won't be able to explain why it's all a big misunderstanding. Or to apologize," he added, when she pressed her lips together irritably.

"I guess I just…" She paused, and sighed. "Is that really what you think? That I'm not perfect for you, but of course you're perfect for me? Because it's like this thing between us is completely one-sided," she said. "How is that fair?"

Jeff was floored. "What the hell? That was what you got from that?" he asked, in disbelief. "Because that's not—I wasn't trying to say that at _all_."

"Weren't you?" said Annie, dubiously.

"No! How could you even think that?"

"Well, what else was I supposed to think?" she demanded, in a very reasonable tone for someone asking—in his opinion—a completely unreasonable question.

"I don't know, I... Why did you say I'm not perfect for you?" he demanded, without thinking.

"What?" It was her turn to look blank.

"You said I wouldn't even be invited to the convention!" It had been playing on his mind, the image of a hundred men, all perfect—younger, hotter, effortlessly lean, keen-witted, and emotionally stable—all vying for a place in Annie's heart. And he wasn't even in the running.

"To... the imaginary convention with presentations about my butt?"

"Yes! Well. Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds dumb."

"Because it _is_ dumb, you jackass!"

"Why don't you think I'm perfect for you?!"

"I _do_!"

Her voice was loud in the—thankfully soundproofed—room. Annie swiveled the chair away, looking weary and so un-Annie—but he could fix this, he could, now that he knew…!

"I'm just going to go," she said. "I don't think I want to talk to you any more tonight."

"No!" He crossed the room swiftly and skirted the desk, crouching down in front of her.

"Jeff, I don't—"

"Please, just shut up and listen for a second. Let me explain. What I said before about there being one perfect woman out there for me, I've never really believed that—you know that, right? It was always a joke to me—‘haha, falling in love is for idiots who watch too many Lifetime movies, it's all a big con’—and of course I knew better, because you can't con a con artist. I knew if I kept my guard up, kept reminding myself that it was a bunch of lies, I'd be safe, that I wouldn't fall into the trap. The only trouble is, you can only keep deluding yourself for so long when the truth is staring you in the face. Because it turns out it's all true. There really is one perfect woman out there for me, _and I think it's you._ "

Annie stared at him in shock. It was satisfying to see her at a loss for words, for once.

"And this is why," he continued quickly, before he could second-guess himself. "Because you say it first, even though you're pissed at me, and you don't put up with any of my bullshit, since the first moment we met, and you're brave about who you are and you don't let the world tell you that you should be someone else—you look like a fucking goddess tonight, did I mention that? And I love you. I've known for a while, and to be honest I thought you knew it, too, but apparently it's not as obvious to you as it is to the rest of the world. And I know that, at best, I'm just one of a dozen or so guys who might be good enough for you, but here's the thing: those guys could be in France or China or Timbuktu, and I'm right here, and I love you."

The silence stretched, becoming less 'satisfying' and more 'oh god please say something'.

Finally, in a small, hesitant voice that made him want to kick himself for not having said it sooner, she said, "You love me?"

Jeff nodded. There were many things he was uncertain about, but that wasn't one of them. "Yes. Practically since the start. It was kind of impossible not to." He eyed her. "You didn't know, huh?"

" _No_ , Jeff," she said, reaching out to swat his chest—only she missed, somehow, and slid towards him until their lips met hungrily.

Jeff tugged her forwards, tipping the balance until he could catch her as she fell out of the chair. He lowered her to the floor, and took a moment to look at her, stretched out on the rich, red carpet, her glossy hair pooled beneath her, and her eyes wide and luminous and happy—and knew that this moment would be imprinted on his memory forever. God, he was never going to be able to concentrate in his office ever again, was he?

She pulled him down towards her, close enough that he could feel the heat when she blushed. "I love you, too," she whispered against his lips. "You know, in case that wasn't obvious."

"I was getting that, yeah," he said—but his heart was thumping wildly, nevertheless. He stroked his nose against hers. "And all those other perfect guys…?"

She rolled her eyes, but humored him. "Not interested," she said, firmly. "They can all take a hike and find some other perfect woman. I'm happy with my neurotic, shallow, cynical, vain, emotionally inarticulate boyfriend."

"Nice, real nice. I tell you how wonderful you are, and you insult me, that's great."

"Okay, how about this: my flawed, handsome, stylish, muscular, clever boyfriend who is a closet romantic and perfect for me in every way except that he doesn't know when to shut up and kiss me."

"Closet romantic? Annie, I take exception—"

And then he couldn't talk any more, because she was kissing him.

And it was perfect.


End file.
